Intro: You better recognize what. Snatchh your f**in' head from your neck. Word Up it's the cold blooded sin. Strickly murder. Legion of Doom 94. Word 'em Up this is how we do that sh**. Techs to your record son. sh**. f** that sh**. Word 'em up that how we're always been 50 Grand: Yo check it, I feel the vibe like Shanet Collaborate on n***as brains and bend you a** like a Sinse' My d**h sentense is danger I black out like Joe Ripken n***as hittin' the floor like the chamber The sick authorist transmits for no repent And activate the plan the Pentagon inelligents So listen close like musical chairs The L.O.D. is deep then the n***as Under The Stairs I crack million dollar script like an archetict And execute like the chair when I inflict d**h I got the creepiest slang in this galaxy And wreck the industry so mysteriously Coming with the funk from beneath I creep straight for juggelars And twist rap caps for all you motherf**ers Walk the bloody streets with 19 shots in the lueger n***as be scared to face 50 Grand like Medusa The sh** I produce is like gin and juice when it blend Scenes from Toni Braxton you'll Never Breath Again I rhyme without ability to reason, n***as is guilty of treason Who's to blame but the Legion to the Doom Hook: With punk n***as we got beef so (L.O.D. about to take it to the streets) On the mic we definatly got beats so (L.O.D. about to take it to the streets) Ron Jay: Roy Jay go the wickedest mystic magestic flow From a homicidal clique, Yo E make that psycopathic mix I hits for the hecks or the sh** that causes conflict in the script Beeotch my style set on fire to touch Venus My soul seeks the universe while I'm sleepin' I'm creepin' makin' myself develop with the chronic Electronic Million Dollar Man the mic bionic So you can feel it in your nerves when I blast off into the suburbs Conduct like ? with electrofying words I freak to them suicidal tracks break backs n***as scarred fakin' f**in' heart atttacks Oooh when I'm comin' through the crowd n***as want static yo I got the gun pazoow, wizoow, word up 50 Grand: I got the slaughter for your brains drive you insain f** that sh** News Interlude Keith Murray: The moderation incobation of my creation Is instantaniously with my vocabulation accumulation Trust me as I bust thee, lyrical homicidal sh** from Keith Murray If I had 24 hours to live and one wish I wouldn't wish for no damn lifesavers I'd start going wild like Larry Davis The funk speach vigalante from the L.O.D Gets funky freakly and freaky fluently And deep as Greek mythology on level Z Theres six million ways to die And eight million stories in the naked city and all them sh**s are lies So I keep my wittiest ironist hidious Psychosis bloodiest flow Thucydides Comin' from out this orbit deep space 9's wiggle my sh** Meltin' crew down like synthetic acid Come half steppin' fession' through a section And get the midsection of your brain drain With mad man expression, no quesion and no second guessin' Outro: Yo 40 dreams and blunts for witches. Yeah that's what we got for them n***as. Yo lets get on it get off it. L.O.D. we won't forfit A-yo check it out. L.O.D. is the n***as man. A-yo put your money where your Mouth is at n***a yeah. I have you rockin' dazie dukes and Reebok pumps n***a yeah, yeah. L.O.D. style for 94 yeah and it's on